Paladin felt as if he had been run over by Archibald, and he breathed against tight ribs and a constricted chest. The silver hairs of his arthritic body began to show through again, collecting on his hocks and hips where years of fighting and war had taken its toll. As he lay on the ground, feeling in control of himself again, he inhaled the sweet smell of grass, still hearing the echo of the song in his head. Someone had healed him, and he would have to thank them sincerely.
Father...?
How long had it been since he heard that voice? The stallion's brows furrowed as he felt a soft, feminine touch on his neck, and he opened his crimson eyes, lifting his neck slightly as he regained his strength. Vertigo snatched his vision, and he closed his eyes tightly, trying to keep the world from spinning. When it faded, he heard his daughter demanding to know what had happened, and he gazed at her pale figure, admiring the woman she had grown to be.
Did she have kids? Did she and that spotted asshole...? Was she happy? Then, he saw a silver dragon land on her back, and he stiffened, gritting his teeth. Well, she was her mother's daughter, and the dragon went with the territory. Still. He eyed the creature suspiciously before trying to pull his body from the ground. The arthritis in his joints burned, and he grunted with the effort, wincing as he favored his hind legs.
"Ophelia," he said quietly, moving gingerly to stand next to his daughter. "I believe that this kind young soul helped me - from what I do not know." Paladin's brows furrowed as he looked upon the other one. He was so familiar. Suddenly, the memory was there.
"Tyradon?" he asked, disbelief in his charismatic voice. "You made it out alive!" He said jovially. "So few survive the shades. I was worried for you and for your mother." Soleil. Where was she?
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